


life can always start up anew

by CivilBores



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Dialogue Heavy, Drabble, Drama, Gen, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, Major Hurt/Comfort, May is a BAMF, One-Shot, Panic Attacks, Self-Indulgent, this had to be written sorry, this is not even a fic at this point it's a statement, this was written out of pure spite, wow arent the topics of my fics soo fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 07:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11641374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CivilBores/pseuds/CivilBores
Summary: Tony Stark isn't a picture perfect father figure. In fact, he's nowhere close to one.When Peter's left trapped and hurt, his cries for help ignored, he has no one to turn to. May is very upset to say the least.





	life can always start up anew

**Author's Note:**

> okay okay okay before you read this i just wanna say this was 100% inspired by @captainkirkk on tumblr's fantastic rants of justice for aunt may! especially since homecoming came out, many authors have been writing off aunt may as a bad person, a bad mother figure, or just killing her off altogether just for the sake of superfamily. which, i mean, is totally up to author's interpretation and freedom, but i think we all deserve may kicking ass every once in a while and this was the best way i could think of.  
> plus, it's kind of in character for tony to screw up badly and then realize how to become better. after everything that happened in homecoming.... well, just give this a read, i think it's pretty self-explanatory! see you down there!

This cannot be happening, Peter tells himself in a blind panic. Not again. Not again.

 

Peter tries to move, but his body is almost glued in place by the rubble above him. His leg is completely trapped under a particularly large piece of wreckage. Not again, not again-

 

He strains to get in a better position, and the rubble above his leg moves with a horrible wrenching sound. The bones in Peter’s leg audibly  _ crunch _ , and Peter lets out an awful, strangled scream of pain. 

 

“Karen,” Peter chokes out. “K-Karen- run diagnostics-”

 

“Body scan complete,” Karen says. Her voice is calm and collected, which only makes Peter realize how panicked he is in contrast. His breaths are coming in shallow- he tries to take deeper breaths, but his ribcage feels crushed into the ground, making it impossible for him to breathe.

 

“Multiple contusions detected,” Karen says. “Your leg appears to be broken. Nothing is fatal as of now, but if you don’t acquire medical attention soon your condition will grow increasingly worse.”

 

It’s not the worst thing Peter expected to hear. It’s also not the best. Peter lets his face drop to the ground and lets out a horrible moan of pain.

 

“Call Mr. Stark,” Peter begs Karen. “P-Please- call him-”

 

“Your call didn’t go through,” Karen tells him. 

 

“No,” Peter says. “No, no,  _ no-” _

 

“Forwarding call to Happy Hogan.”

 

“Oh, yes, thank god,” Peter gasps, tears of relief welling in his eyes. 

 

Happy picks up. “ _ Hello?” _

 

“Happy!” Peter cries. “Happy, it’s- it’s me, it’s Peter, I need help-”

 

“ _ Parker?”  _ Happy scoffs. _ “Kid, I told you I don’t have time for your stupid games.” _

 

“This isn’t- I’m not-”

 

_ “Look, I’m busy right now, just call your friend or your aunt or something, okay?”  _

 

“ _ Wait, Happy! _ ” Peter screams.

 

Happy hangs up.

 

Peter freezes for a long, tense moment. His fingers curl into his palms. 

 

He sniffles, his eyes stinging. Of course. It makes sense. Happy has better things to do.

 

He’s on his own, now. It’s okay. 

 

“It’s okay,” Peter whispers to himself with a shudder. His voice is creaky and hollow. “You’re gonna be okay. You can do this, Spider-Man…”

 

He can’t cry. Not now. 

 

“I attempted to call Happy Hogan again,” Karen says, her voice gentle and almost sympathetic. “He’s blocked calls from you temporarily.”

 

“‘Course he has,” Peter mumbles hoarsely. “For some reason he hates my guts.”

 

“He doesn’t hate you,” Karen assures him.

 

“Whatever,” Peter spits. “Obviously Happy and Mr. Stark don’t care enough about me not to leave me to die under here.  _ Everyone _ just hates me, don’t they?”

 

“I don’t hate you,” Karen says softly.

 

For some reason that makes Peter break all over again. Knowing that Karen, of all people, is the one person who’s more sympathetic and knowing than anyone else, and she’s a fucking  _ robot. _

 

“Thanks,” Peter says anyway, not wanting to hurt her feelings, if it’s even possible.

 

Peter lets his body sink to the ground. His leg is throbbing with pain every second and it’s so horrible that he buries his face in his arms, cringing. The weight is growing increasingly heavier, tighter, he feels it’ll just close in on him altogether and leave him crushed.

 

It’s just like the first time. Maybe even worse than the first time. 

 

“No, no…” Peter shakes his head fiercely. “Do  _ not  _ think about that time.”

 

“Peter, are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” Peter grinds out, even though he doesn’t mean it at all. 

 

Don’t think about it. Don’t-

 

_ The rubble creaks above him.  _

 

_ His mouth tastes like sawdust. _

 

_ Warm, sticky runoff water drips onto his head and into his eyes. _

 

_ No space to breathe. _

 

“Oh my  _ god,”  _ Peter wails. “Not again- not this again-”

 

“Your breathing is increasing rapidly,” Karen says. “Peter, you need to take deeper breaths.”

 

“Oh god, oh god,” Peter half-whispers, half-moans. “It’s happening again- it’s-”

 

_ Something shifts above him and forces his face to the ground. _

 

_ Something rough and sharp digs into the side of his leg. _

 

_ He’s all alone here. _

 

“No!” Peter shrieks, his body jerking violently. His breaths are coming in frantic, shallow gasps.

 

“Peter, you have to calm down,” Karen says. “Your movement is making things worse-”

 

“It’s okay,” Peter wheezes hysterically to himself. “It’s okay, it’s okay- you’re gonna be fine- at least Karen’s with you-”

 

Above him, the rubble creaks loudly and shifts slightly. The weight on his back increases and he gasps as it digs into the back of his suit, something sharp tearing into the smaller part of his back. 

 

He winces, straining under it. “Ow, ow- Karen, what was that-?!”

 

Karen has fallen silent. Peter strains, his head twisting into the ground- he shoves his face into the dust, trying to adjust to the sharp pain in his back.

 

“Karen?!” Peter shouts.

 

“It appears something has ruptured the suit system,” Karen says. “I can’t function properly. All systems are now shutting down.”

 

“No,” Peter mumbles. Louder, he cries out, “No! Karen, please don’t go-!”

 

Karen says, “I’m sorry, Pet-”

 

Her voice drops in pitch, flickers with bursts of static, and then she’s gone.

 

Peter screams out loud in pain and anguish. His fingernails dig into his palms and draw blood but he hardly notices. The pain is so bad that he wants to bash his head into the ground.

 

He clenches his teeth and takes a deep, shaky breath.

 

“Karen,” he whispers. 

 

He half-expects her to magically burst back to life, to assure him she’s there and that help is on the way.

 

She’s still gone.

 

“Karen,” Peter begs again, his voice a low groan. “Karen, Karen, please, no.”

 

There’s no response. The entire world has gone silent for him. 

 

“Anybody,” Peter says. His voice rises increasingly, syncing up with his heart rate- “Anybody, help me!! Please!”

 

He can’t breathe. His leg is completely crushed under him- he’s practically lost all feeling in it-

 

“Mr. Stark,” Peter whispers numbly. 

 

Tony is his hero. Tony’s Iron Man. When Peter was a kid, he watched Iron Man on the news every day.

 

Iron Man always came to the rescue.

 

Peter lets a horrible sob escape his lips. Mr. Stark never came.

 

He lets his head fall to his arms again before darkness swallows up his vision.

  
  


-

  
  


Peter opens his eyes with a start to the sound of metal creaking above him.

 

A strangled noise makes its way out of Peter’s throat and he looks up. Iron Man is standing there, lifting the collapsed rubble from off of Peter. As soon as it’s lifted from Peter’s body, relief floods his entire being. He’s forgotten what it feels like to breathe.

 

“Mr. Stark,” Peter croaks out. He tries to get to his feet, but his mangled leg doesn’t move and his back flares with pain. “Mr. Stark- you came-”

 

“Hey, easy there, kid. I’m sort of at an important press event right now, so I don’t have that much time. You’re gonna be fine to walk home, right? It’s not too far from here.”

 

“What…?”

 

Iron Man’s faceplate lifts, revealing emptiness.

 

Peter deflates instantly. 

 

Of course.

 

No one’s here.

 

“Oh,” Peter says softly.

 

“I asked a question, Parker,” Iron Man says, an edge to his voice. “You can get home fine, right?”

 

“I- actually, my leg-”

 

“‘Kay, good. Bye.”

 

“Wait, I-”

 

“Mr. Stark has been disconnected,” says the empty robot voice within the suit. Peter watches as it takes off and jets towards the sky, leaving him alone.

 

Tony’s probably busy, at some press meeting. Why would he stop everything to help Peter? Peter- he’s not important. Not… not important enough for Tony Stark’s time.

 

“Okay,” Peter mumbles, slowly forcing himself to his feet. He’s still shaking from relief and pain and fear all at once, but he forces his feet to move. He grimaces in pain, gasping as pain shoots through his bad leg.

 

“You got this, Spider-Man,” he whispers to himself. “Come on. You’ve got this…”

 

He forces his good leg forward, practically dragging his injured one behind him, and begins limping down the street towards his apartment. He’s all alone. Mr. Stark’s abandoned him here, left him to get back home with a broken leg, and for some reason that stings more than it should- knowing that Tony has deserted him.

 

Tony has more important things to do, Peter reminds himself. You’re not on that list.

 

It’s okay, though. It’s okay. It’ll be okay- it’ll have to be.

 

He can do this by himself.

  
  


-

  
  


When Peter limps in through his window, May is waiting on his bed with her head in her hands.

 

“May,” Peter tries, but his voice is still hoarse and choked. His leg feels like it’s been through a garbage disposal, and he feels on the verge of collapse- the exhaustion from walking home on his injury is catching up to him. 

 

May looks up anyway, her eyes widening as she sees him, and lets out a heavy breath of relief.

 

“Peter, where were you?! You’ve been gone for hours-  _ hours. _ Not a word from the news, either, you know you can’t just keep doing this to me, running off and-” 

 

Peter feels exhausted, and May’s questions aren’t helping, as much as he loves her. With each second she rambles, he feels himself growing more tired by the second. 

 

Suddenly she stops. Her eyes settle on his figure, and her face softens instantly, her features overcome by worry. “Your leg- oh god, Peter, you look awful… What happened? Where-”

 

“May, I’m sorry, but I really just wanna sleep right now,” Peter says quietly.

 

May instantly draws back, her eyes wide. She looks him up and down silently.

 

“Okay,” she says faintly. “Okay, sure, honey. We’ll, um… we’ll talk when you wake up.”

 

Peter lets himself melt into his bed, watching tiredly as May disappears behind his door. He closes his eyes and succumbs to his exhaustion.

  
  


-

  
  


Peter wakes drenched in sweat. He sits up with a gasp and instantly winces at the pain that follows sharply after in his leg. He weakly pulls the blankets off of himself. 

 

His bedroom door opens and May pokes her head in.

 

“Peter?” she asks tentatively. Her eyes are nervous, and she locks gazes with him. “Are you alright? I heard you screaming.”

 

“Oh,” Peter mumbles. “Sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t realize….”

 

“Are you okay?” May asks. She steps carefully into the room and slides the door shut.

 

She waits expectantly for an answer. Peter sucks in a breath.

 

“No,” he says honestly. His voice is so soft he’s unsure whether she heard him, but then she’s coming over and sitting at his bedside.

 

“What happened?” May asks. “Peter, it’s okay to tell me. Just… lay it all out for me.”

 

Peter takes in a deep, shaky breath, running a nervous hand through his hair- his gasp of air turns into a strangled, choked off laugh and he lets his hand drop back to his lap.

 

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to start,” Peter says honestly.

 

“From the beginning,” May offers with a small, twisted smile. 

 

“Okay, well.” Peter stares at his open palms, then curls them into fists. “I, um. I was out on patrol… there was this, uh, this- this building, y’know- it was coming down, and I got the people out but I… I got trapped…”

 

May lets out a soft “oh, no” and rubs his good leg comfortingly.

 

“ _ Again _ ,” Peter adds hoarsely. “And- and my leg, it got crushed under all the rubble and I couldn’t move… So I called Mr. Stark, and I thought, of course he can help me, he’s- he’s Iron Man- but he didn’t pick up. Happy, I called him too, he- he  _ hung up on me _ -”

 

May’s entire body has gone rigid now, her face turning to stone. Peter doesn’t notice, continuing.

 

“And Karen, she- she shut down, and I was all alone again- I couldn’t move and I was so, so scared, I thought I was gonna die- Mr. Stark came, but he didn’t  _ really,  _ and I just- he just got me out and sent me on my way, he didn’t even really come for me, I really was all alone the entire time- why didn’t he  _ come  _ for me?!” Peter demands. Peter buries his face in his hands. “I was so  _ scared _ -”

 

Peter stops himself. He bites back a sob that tries to crawl its way out of his throat. He uncurls his fists, then curls them again.

 

“But it’s- it’s okay,” he says, more to himself than to May. “It’s okay, right…?”

 

May’s arms are around him.

 

Peter blinks. Once. Twice.

 

“Shh,” she whispers to him. “It’s okay to be hurt, and let yourself be hurt. I’ve got you now.”

 

“I have nobody,” Peter mumbles, his voice watery. “I was all alone…”

 

“You have me, Peter,” May says. “You always have me, no matter what. Even when everyone around you is gone and you think you’re alone, I will always be here for you.”

 

And for some reason, that makes Peter shatter.

 

Hot tears spill down his cheeks, soaking her shirt, and she hugs him tighter. He clings to her like a child, whispering “I’m sorry” over and over and  _ over  _ again, and she whispers “you have nothing to be sorry for” over and over and over again.

 

But it’s okay, somehow. He needs her, and she’s actually here, unlike everyone else. She’s been here, and she’s not going anywhere.

 

“I’m scared,” Peter cries softly into her shoulder. “I- I’m s-so scared, Mom-”

 

“I know, honey. You’re so brave, Peter. You’re the bravest boy I know.” May runs a hand through his hair. “I’m going to keep you safe.”

 

There’s something so much more comforting about May than Karen or Tony or Happy could ever be. Her voice is soothing and soft, starkly different than Karen’s computer generated hum and Tony’s metallic sounding echo and Happy’s irritated, muffled phone voice.

 

May’s so much more human, so much more  _ real.  _ That’s what matters.

 

“I love you,” Peter tells her, weakly returning her embrace.

 

“I love you, too, Peter,” she says. “More than anything. And I will always be here for you when you need me.”

 

He nods fiercely and she finally lets him go so that he can lie back down on his bed. She strokes his cheek lovingly- Peter leans into her touch.

 

“I’m sorry for crying all over you,” he mumbles.

 

“It’s okay to cry,” she tells him. “You don’t have to be a hero around me. You already are a hero to everyone- you need to let yourself be a 15 year old, too. I know it hurts, and I know you’re scared.”

 

Peter wants to sob with relief at hearing her words. Everything all laid out in front of him. May always knows exactly how he feels, and there’s no better feeling in the entire world.

 

“Get some rest, okay?” she tells him.

 

“Wait,” Peter says. She turns back to him.

 

“Don’t… don’t call Mr. Stark,” he says. “Please.”

 

May pauses, hesitating, and then turns her back to him again.

 

“I won’t,” she promises. 

  
  


-

  
  


In May’s defense, she doesn’t  _ call  _ Mr. Stark like Peter asked her not to.

 

Instead, she storms up to the lobby desk in the Avengers Tower and she orders the clerk, “I need to see Tony Stark right now.”

 

“Oh, do you have an appointment-”

 

“No, I don’t, but I think this is important enough,” May says sharply.

 

The clerk’s eyes go wide in surprise. She clears her throat and says, “He just got back from a press meeting… I don’t know if he has the time.”

 

At May’s pointed look, the clerk amends, “I can call him, though!”

 

May nods in approval and the clerk instantly picks up the phone, dialing his number. She puts him on speaker.

 

“ _ Yes?” _ Tony says, his voice muffled on the phone.

 

“Hello, Mr. Stark. There’s a, um… a woman here requesting to see you-”

 

_ “Tell her I don’t have room for meet and greets right now.” _

 

The clerk opens her mouth to speak, but May takes the phone from her.

 

“Hi, Tony,” May says in a sickly sweet voice. “It’s May Parker. I’m the woman requesting to see you and it’s pretty  _ fucking  _ important, so if I were you I’d  _ make room.” _

 

The clerk gasps at May’s language, but May really doesn’t give a shit right now. There’s silence on the other end of the line.

 

_ “I’m in the conference room right now. I’m alone,”  _ Tony says.

 

“Great. Thank you so much for being generous enough to book me an appointment,” May spits venomously, and slams the phone down. The clerk watches May leave with huge eyes and a dropped jaw.

  
  


-

  
  


“Hi,” Tony says to May. 

 

She can’t hear him over the pounding of blood in her ears. She walks straight towards him, not stopping.

 

She slaps him hard across the face. He blinks, stunned into silence, his lips ghosting over words he can’t figure out how to make.

 

“You’re a fucking idiot,” she hisses at him. “You know that, Stark?”

 

“What’re you talking about?” he demands. “God, you actually hit hard.”

 

“Don’t bullshit me right now. Unless you’ve already forgotten that Peter was trapped under a fucking building last time you saw him.”

 

Tony visibly falters. “This is about Peter…?”

 

“Damn right.”

 

“Oh god, May.. is he okay? I-”

 

“What would you do if he wasn’t, huh?!” May demands, her fists shaking at her sides. “It’s always, is he okay?! But that thought only occurs  _ after  _ the fact. What if he was dead right now, would you even care? Some press meeting’s more important to you than his own life?”

 

“I went to get him! Of course I care, I tracked him because I was worried about him-”

 

“Yeah, you’re right. You care so much about him that you just happened to ignore the fact that his leg was fucking broken, and made him  _ walk home  _ on it.”

 

Tony’s eyes go wide. “Holy fuck. May, I swear to god I didn’t know, I would have….”

 

“Would have what?” May crosses her arms. “With you, there’s a lot of ‘would haves’. Maybe you should start actually doing something for him.”

 

“Don’t do that to me,” Tony warns lowly. “May, don’t do that. You know I care about him, I just want what’s best for him- if he told me he was hurt, if he had called me, I would’ve run straight over there-”

 

“Except you blocked calls from him, right? Giving him no way to reach out to you.”

 

“Happy-”

 

“Hung up on him, and then blocked calls from him.”

 

Tony’s eyes look completely broken, and it fills May with a sick sense of satisfaction knowing she’s countered every single one of his arguments.

 

“Karen,” he tries as a last resort, but May can see the way his face falls when he looks in her eyes and knows that even Karen failed to help.

 

“She shut down,” May said. “But you know what? She did do a lot better than both you and Happy combined in comforting Peter. Lasted longer. Does that make you feel any better? Knowing that a fucking  _ robot  _ could do more for him?”

 

“I tried,” Tony says, and May shakes her head with a humorless laugh.

 

“No, you didn’t,” May says. “So don’t act like you did.”

 

They stand in silence for a long few moments. Tony has broken eye contact with May. He can’t look at her. May’s glad, because she doesn’t want to look at him either- just the sight of him makes her sick with both anger and disgust.

 

“He’s messed up,” May says finally. “Really messed up. You know already how badly he was shaken up from the first time- we both know that. So I trusted you, that you’d look out for him the next time it happened, and look where we are now.”

 

“It won’t happen again,” Tony says.

 

“It won’t,” May agrees. “And it shouldn’t have happened this time, either.”

 

“What do you want me to do?” Tony asks, his voice pleading. “May, I- Seriously. I fucked up. I can- I can help, I can… just tell me. Tell me what you- what he needs from me.”

 

May’s heel clicks against the floor. The sound echoes through the room.

 

She leans forward and looks him dead in the eye, and tells him,  _ “I need you to be better.” _

 

Instantly, Tony visibly breaks, and May doesn’t even feel bad about it. She leans back and crosses her arms, watching the anguish pass over his face like a shadow, and she feels proud of herself. 

 

May turns around and walks away, leaves Tony Stark behind in the conference room with the weight of those words. 

 

She’s just set fire to him through her words, and he’s ablaze. 

 

May holds a bucket of water in her heart.

 

She walks away with it, leaving him to burn.

  
  


-

  
  


“ _ I’m s-so scared, Mom-” _

 

Peter’s voice echoes through May’s mind, ringing. 

 

He was so broken. He was so, so broken, and it hurt May to see him like that.

 

May exhales and runs a nervous hand through her hair. 

 

He called her “Mom”. 

 

Maybe… 

 

Maybe May’s not his mother, not by blood. Not even close. She laughs dryly at the thought that she’s not even directly related to the boy by blood.

 

It doesn’t matter. Peter has nobody else. 

 

So May will do everything in her damn power to be a mother figure for him, because he needs her and- and hell, she needs him too.

 

Fuck Tony Stark and his robots, his AI’s, his colleagues. Fuck the Avengers. 

 

There’s a clear difference between Tony and May. Tony met Peter a month after he got his powers. Tony’s known Peter as Spider-Man, and then Peter Parker.

 

Sometimes May thinks Tony forgets that Peter’s just a child.

 

May never forgets. May’s grown up with him, loved him since he was a baby- she knows Peter Parker first, and only Peter Parker. She doesn’t really care about anything else.

 

So Tony Stark can go fuck himself until he figures out how to care for Peter like he’s supposed to.

  
  


-

  
  


Peter blinks himself awake. He had another dreamless sleep, but he doesn’t think he had nightmares this time because he wakes up calmly and gently and not in his usual cold sweat.

 

His vision focuses and he sees May sitting in his desk chair, holding up a picture frame. Her eyes are cloudy as she gently strokes the glass.

 

“Aunt May,” Peter says softly. She turns her head and looks at him, offering a small smile, and sets the photo back down.

 

“Hey, Peter.”

 

“Thank you,” Peter says. “For, um… for always being here. I really- what you said, earlier, um- I really needed to hear that. That I have someone in my corner.”

 

May’s smile widens just barely, and she nods towards him. “You don’t have to thank me.”

 

Peter returns her wry smile, and they hold each other’s gazes for a long moment.

 

“You know, I have a feeling it won’t happen again, though,” May says. “I mean, I have a feeling that Tony will be very deliberate in answering your calls from now on.”

 

Peter’s eyes widen. “May, you didn’t say anything to him, did you? I-”

 

“No, no. Of course not. He called me. Told me he was sorry.” May smiles at him, her eyes twinkling. “He cares about you a lot, Peter, even though he’s a huge asshole… he really does. And he told me that he’s not going to let anything like that happen again.”

 

“He called you?” Peter says tiredly. 

 

“Mm-hmm.”

 

For some reason, Peter doubts that. He really doubts it.

 

But he lets himself believe it, just for now, because it really does help to know that it won’t happen again. 

 

May gives Peter one last glance over her shoulder before she leaves his bedroom, closing the door with a click. 

**Author's Note:**

> don't sleep on aunt may, y'all. lesson learned.  
> anyway, this is kinda dedicated to @captainkirkk who is basically my idol?? didn't want to gift it because it's more of an inspired-by-you kinda thing if that makes sense but anyway if they're reading this hey hello you're amazing and just the best ever  
> comments make me scream and throw things but in a happy way so go for it  
> if you wanna talk about how badass may is my tumblr is too-many-bees, i also take writing prompts there  
> okay wow thank you and bye y'all!!!!! hope you liked it!!


End file.
